Sugar Coated
by InsaneAkatsukiFangirl001
Summary: What if Light Yagami wasn't the one to pick up the Death Note when Ryuk dropped it that day? What if it was a girl—equally as smart as Light—who picked it up? What if she was somehow already involved with L and the rest of the Wammy's crew? LxOC


So I got this idea. I got this amazing idea (in my mind, at least) for a Death Note story—my very first one. So here it is. :D

**INTRO TO THE STORY.**

**Summary:** What if Light Yagami wasn't the one to pick up the Death Note when Ryuk dropped it that day? What if it was a girl—equally as smart as Light—who picked it up? What if she was somehow already involved with L and the rest of the Wammy's crew? Find out in this screwed up Fanfiction :D

**Character Info**

**Name:** Vanya Vadim

**Alias:** Vexa Vlad (Otherwise known as Vee or VV.)

**Nationality:** Russian

**Age:** Varies throughout the story. Will be stated at the beginning of each chapter.

**Age Orphaned At:** Five

**Blood Type:** O

**Hair Color:** Dark Brown

**Eye Color:** Grey

**Past:** Read the story. It begins at her past.

**Rank At Wammy's:** Fourth

**Other:** Loves the letter 'V'. Is obsessed with the idea of aliens being real. Is rather quiet and reserved, and prefers thick syfy novels to playing games with the other kids. Always wears a locket that her mother gave her for her fourth birthday, even if she has no memories of her parents. Always keeps her eyes wide open, and Mello makes fun of her for looking like a fish because she doesn't like to blink. Loves gummy candies with a passion. She feels that she is emotionally incapacitated.

**Chapter One **

(Chapter one is starting at the day where she found her parents dead)

I had been fast asleep. At the time, I had been one of the heaviest sleepers my parents knew, they had said, and I was only five. That might explain why I hadn't heard their screams, their cries, their pleas for help. Not that I could have done much in the first place.

As I walked down the stairs that morning, I was wondering one thing: Why didn't mommy come to wake me up this morning? With that thought in my head, I did not expect to go downstairs and see what I saw. The image of blood and cuts and bruises filled my head, but then vanished. My mind had a way of sugar-coating things. "Momma? Papa? Are you awake? What's going on?" I said. I received no reply. They usually just did that—ignored me, when they were busy and didn't want to be bothered. "Oh, okay. I'll talk to you when you come and get me." With that, I turned away from my parents who were lying on the ground and went into the kitchen. I made myself some food and went back to my room, ate, and read. I knew how to make food because of all the times I had watched my parents make it, and I taught myself how to read. I was a genius child, but in all honesty my parents didn't pay enough attention to me to notice.

A few days of me being alone and fending for myself eventually led to weeks. After three weeks, I heard a knock at my door. I got up off of my perch on the stairwell and flipped my book over, cover facing up. I walked to the door and slowly answered it, smiling brightly up at the two men who knocked on my door. "Hello there, what can I do for you?"

I took a good glance at these men. They were in the same outfits, something I believed to be uniforms. They looked slightly familiar, like I had seen that suit somewhere before. One of the men looked down at me, and I registered the emotion on his face to be surprise. It was the expression my mother had on her face when I first used the word 'hate'. His face soon turned warm and he crouched down to look at me. "Why, hello there. I was just wondering if your parents were in by any chance," he said to me.

I felt my face screw up in distaste. I took a step back. "Well, they're here, but they're sleeping… I don't know why. They've been sleeping for a few weeks, now," I answered, trying to be pleasant to this man who had clearly never encountered an intelligent five year old. I furrowed by brows together when I saw them exchange a worried glance with one another. "Is everything quite alright?" I asked.

The same one that spoke to me before looked down at me. "Is it alright if we come inside?" he asked me, his smile wavering.

I nodded, confused. Why were they so worried? My parents were only asleep. "Yes, that's fine," I replied, keeping my lips pursed as I stepped aside and let them into my house. I looked out the door cautiously, peering to see if there were any more of them. From what I could see, there wasn't, and I closed the door and turned around, to where the men had decided to go from the sunroom (where we were) and into the living room. I followed them to where they were, astonished to find them staring wide-eyed at where my parents were sleeping. "What's wrong?" I asked the clearly distressed men. They turned to me, weird looks on their faces that I didn't bother deciphering.

"Your parents aren't asleep, dear," he told me. I raised a brow.

"Yes they are."

"No, they're really not, darling. They… they're dead."

I blinked once, hard. I racked my brain for any memory of anything, and the only thing that came up was that fleeting second where I saw blood, cuts, and bruises everywhere. "O-oh." I gulped. I tried to see it again. The devastation. I couldn't. Everything was so sugar-coated. It was clean. They looked as if nothing had touched them… it was perfect… too perfect.

One of the men that had visited me spoke, suddenly. "Darling, what is your name?" he asked.

I cleared my throat. "I am Vanya Vadim, sir. Now what makes you so positive that my parents are dead?" I shot back.

"Do you not see the blood that covers them?" the other replied to me. I once again furrowed my brow. I began to walk over to where my parents were laying. "U-umm, I suggest you not go over there, Vanya…" I heard, but choose to ignore. Who were they anyway, to barge in my house, act like I'm stupid, and tell me my parents were dead? I approached my mother's head, and knelt down, pressing my fingers to her pulse point. How…peculiar. There was no pulse, and when I pulled my fingers away, they had an odd, sticky red substance on them, once described to me as blood.

"Peculiar…" I wondered out loud. I looked back at my mother, and only for a second again, I saw the blood, cuts, bruises and damage on her. I looked at the police officers, who had horror-struck looks on their faces. "Why did it go away?" I asked.

"H-huh?" one of them said.

I rolled my eyes. "Why in the world did it all go away? I really can't see it? I don't see how they're dead!"

The men looked between each other, and one of them pulled something out of their pockets. It was a badge. I suddenly knew exactly who they were. They were police officers. I cowered under their steady gazes for a moment after I had figured that out. "S-so… It's true, isn't it?" I asked. One of the officers nodded. As did I. I said nothing at first, only gazing mournfully at where my parents lay. "I'm just glad that I didn't have to see the gore…" I thought out loud.

The taller of the two crouched down and held my chin in his hand. "I promise, Vanya, that I will catch the man who did this to your parents," he told me. I only nodded, my face instantly going deadpan. And deadpan it stayed, for a long, long time.


End file.
